I vividly remember the first day I went in my father’s study. It was a very old place, full of books, his chair, and his desk. My father usually did not allow me in there, but today was different. He called me in there today and asked me to sit down. As I sat at the makeshift desk he set up for me, he placed a notepad in front of me and told me to tell him a story. He said to tell a good story, the kind of story that would entertain for years to come. I needed to make a place: a universe in which my story would take place. I needed characters that people could read about, and they needed to be loveable, hated, and relatable; but above all, they need to be understandable. That day that started my writing career, and to this day, I cannot go a single day without writing. How I would make a living off it is simple: wake up, have some breakfast and write until bed. I would take vacations, of course, among other breaks, but my passion is to be a best-selling author. My stories would entertain, sure, but they would do so much more: they would teach; they would help people; they would make people think, grow, and maybe even inspire. I could care less if I made a dime off the books I sold, as long as the stories I told made the world a better place.